


I'm Here

by Toomanyficstowrite



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Caslock, M/M, castielock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 02:59:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toomanyficstowrite/pseuds/Toomanyficstowrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my first official fic. I'd love to hear some feedback, whether it be constructive or just a compliment. Both are appreciated :)</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. He's Changed me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first official fic. I'd love to hear some feedback, whether it be constructive or just a compliment. Both are appreciated :)

“Wait explain this to me again. How do you know Castiel is missing?”

“Can’t you see it? Oh of course not. Gah, ordinary people are so boring! It’s the little things around the flat. The kettle isn’t on. There aren’t any biscuits out. His favorite chair is cold and his bookmark is between the same pages as yesterday. Don’t you see?!”

“Sure,” Lestrade doesn’t believe him and he knows it. “Do try to contain your sympathy,” Sherlock lashes out at Lestrade.

“Oh stop that Sherlock. You know I care about Castiel just as much as you do. I was his best man for God’s sake!”

“Don’t hold him to that. He’d only been around a few months when we got married. He didn’t know anyone else.”

“Of course. Well Sherlock it’s too early to reasonably assume that Cas is missing. It’s only been a few hours since he went out. He’ll be fine I’m sure of it. Remember three months ago when he was really just at a lecture over in Dublin and you forgot? I’ll check back in tomorrow. I’ve got to get back to the office.”

“Oh what a great Detective Inspector you are!” Sherlock shouts out the door as Lestrade leaves. Mrs. Hudson appears and begins making tea. Sherlock is about to thank her when he sees the pot. “No no! That’s Castiel’s kettle! Only Cas can make tea in it!”

“Sherly it’s quite alright. Mrs. Hudson can use my tea pot,” There stands Castiel in a flannel shirt and jeans in the doorway. And Sherlock is upon him.

“Where the hell have you been? You’ve scared me half to death, you idiot,” Cas sighs with a smile as Sherlock speaks.

“Hey babe it’s okay. I’m here. I just went on the way home from the shop to get you some more ammo since you’ve unloaded the rest on Mrs. Hudson’s poor walls.” Sherlock clasped his face between his hands and looked into Cas’s eyes.

“You aren’t lying? You’re absolutely sure you aren’t just saying that? You aren’t being blackmailed? Pressured? Threatened? Tell the truth. I’ll know if you don’t tell the truth.”

“Darlin’ I’m fine I promise. Just calm down,” He lays his hands over Sherlock’s on his face. Cas stands on his tippy toes so he can kiss the top of his head. They’re the same height and yet Cas insists he’s taller. Sherlock smiles, content once more.

***

“Tea Sherly?”

“Not now thanks. I’m measuring the coagulation of saliva after death.”

“Fascinating. Mind if I join?”

“I could use your help actually. There’s something wrong with my laptop.”

“Oh, come on, you know I don’t know how to work modern electronics. The six simple machines however, those I could help you with. Simply revolutionary when those came out.”

“Right. Sometimes I forget that you’re a former celestial being.” _Sarcasm is fun_.

“Sherlock!” In walks Mrs. Hudson ready to defend Cassie to her dying day,”It’s not been a year since poor Cas fell. You should be more considerate.”

“Its okay Mrs. Hudson. I’ve become quite fond of Sherlock’s sense of humor,” He goes over to Sherlock and kisses the top of his head. Cas has always had a fixation on his curls. Once he gets over himself (and Sherlock’s curls) he sits and looks at Sherlock’s notes. “No no this isn’t right. Your molecular structure of the amylase in the sample’s saliva is off. Its affecting the results.”

“What? No it’s not,” Sherlock doesn’t even look up from the microscope.

“Yes it is. When these two form a covalent bond, and then a compound, it makes a lysozyme. You added an extra water molecule."

“...My mistake,” Sherlock says in a monotone, “Thank you for pointing that out,” This with a smile. _Cas has softened me. I’m less sarcastic, I’m kinder. I’ve even started talking to Mycroft regularly. He’s changed me in a way that no one else has been able to._


	2. There is No God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is where it starts to get exciting. I hope you enjoy it

“TELL ME! TELL ME WHERE HE IS NOW!”

    “Who?” Cas asks with a cocky grin.

    “DON’T PLAY GAMES WITH ME.”

    “Games? Like Bananagram? I don’t much like word games. I prefer games like-OW! NOT NICE! Dammit Crowley!” Crowley punches Castiel in the jaw.

    “CASTIEL THIS IS NOT A TIME FOR JOKES. I swear to God, I swear to GOD IF YOU DON’T TELL ME WHERE HOLMES IS I’LL KILL YOU!” Cas thinks on what Crowley’s said for a while, just pondering.

    “Go to Hell, because you know what? There is no more God and that is a fact.”

***

“Lestrade! It’s for real this time! He’s really gone! It’s been a day to the hour. We need to hurry before the trail goes cold.”

    “Oh bugger off Holmes. No one here cares that your husband is ‘missing’,”

    “Anderson, I thought I asked you to leave when I come into the room. It’s the only way cases will actually get solved.”

    “You can’t make him leave, Freak!”

    “Oh Sally. Never has there been a more incompetent person on the force. You and Anderson are perfect together. It’s like your ever decreasing IQs are racing for lowest.”

    “Alright, alright!" Lestrade steps in, "Sherlock, you’re sure he’s gone?”

    “Do I make mistakes?”

    “Well-” Anderson starts until Lestrade shoots him a look that clearly says _s_ _hut the hell up, Anderson._

    “Yes, Greg, I’m sure. It’s been twenty-five hours now, thanks Anderson.”

    “What did I do?”

    “Oh nothing really, but your existence is so frustratingly simple that I’ve decided to blame you for everything,”

    “Sherlock, this isn’t helping Cas!” Sherlock gets a ferocious look on his face when Greg says this, as if he’s ready to single-handedly take on whoever took Castiel away from him.


	3. Unless You Tell Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhhhhhhh crap guys I'm sorry for this

The police have left the flat. _Well they did a mediocre job. Of course_. Sherlock had started his own investigation before ever going to see Lestrade. He’d already checked up and followed the leads. They went nowhere.

    “Here, Sherlock. A nice murder for you. Something to get your mind off Cas. Let the police handle this one.”

    “Thank you Mrs. Hudson,” Sherlock takes the manilla folder from her and tosses it aside without a glance.

    “Come now, Sweetie. Just look at the case,” Sherlock consents with a sigh. After a moment he says, “This, this is actually quite good. Yes, this is perfect. Bless you, Mrs. Hudson!” Mrs. Hudson does not know that this case is, in fact, a lead. She doesn’t know as much about angels as Sherlock, though admittedly he is married to a former one. This body that was found _, oh it’s beautiful._ Cas will be sad; have a funeral and everything. Sherlock does not ponder long on this thought. He hails a cab and is on his way.

***

    “Hey Crowley could you get that blood? Its about to drip into my eye,” Cas asks nonchalantly.

    “Sure sure,” Crowley strides to Cas and points to the blood sliding down Cas’s forehead, “Right here?” before punching him square in the eye.

    “Well that’s not quite what I asked for, but it got the blood off so thanks. I thought I would give you a fair warning and let you know that I’m gonna bust out of these ties. And then I’m gonna gank your ass, Winchester style.”

    “Oh those boys! I almost forgot about them. I should really go visit their graves sometime soon. Plant some flowers or something,” A wicked smile crosses Crowley’s face. Cas’s eyes burn with anger.

    “Wait. You and Dean had a thing right? How that warms my dead heart right down to the soul that I don’t have,” Cas’s eyes are practically glowing with rage. In fact they seem a little bluer than usual.

    “Shut up,” Is all he can say. He wants to kill Crowley. Rip him limb from limb as he’s never wanted before.

    Dean. Sam. Oh how Castiel misses those boys. Pranking Dean with Sam; learning how to live with Dean. Those two taught him more than anyone ever has. The guilt of letting them down in the worst way was pulling Castiel closer and closer to the brink.

    No one saw the Wendigo coming. And they died as they wanted. Together, working a normal case. But they didn’t account for Castiel and the happiness he brought them. For the first time in a long time, the boys were loved. They all let their guard down that night.

    _“Come on let’s take a night off! We should do shots and drink and do everything you two used to before we started the apocalypse for the umpteenth time!”_

    Cas’s words haunt him. He curls inward in an uncomfortable way, his arms still tied behind the chair. The ties are cutting off his blood flow. He likes the discomfort, feels he deserves the pain.

    “That’s adorable. The fallen angel mourning it’s lost owners,” Crowley says in a demeaning tone upon seeing Castiel’s bowed figure. “I may vomit, it’s so cute,” Cas is so full of rage, so heartbroken. The demons on either side of Crowley laugh vindictively.

    “Omnis potestis est…” he whispers. Cas would pray but he knows no one is listening, so instead, he mutters a spell, “...audi nos,” He finishes the spell quietly and within seconds, the demons on either side of Crowley burn into ash. A bright light, brighter than two ordinary demons dying emanates from the room.

    “Of course it doesn’t work on the demon I want it to,” Now it’s just Castiel and Crowley in the dank room. Crowley looks back and forth between Cas and the piles of ash.

    “Well perhaps we should go ahead and finish this up, eh? Tell me where Sherlock is, and I won’t tell him that you’ve got your Grace back. Sound good? I’d hate to see his reaction when he finds out that you’ve been lying to him. Really, Cas, I thought you had more sense. How long has our favorite rebel been back?”

    “About three months,” Castiel says between his teeth. Crowley whistles in mock admiration. Cas looks ready to murder Crowley in the most painful way the King of Hell could imagine.

    “Think of what it’ll be like for him. He’ll probably kick you out. Unless of course you tell me. Where is Holmes?”

***


	4. Flick to Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention that this was all written in the hiatus between seasons 8 and 9, so some of it is outdated.

“Thank you taxi. Yes here. Why is it so shocking that I want to visit a sewage treatment plant?” The cabby drives away after his speculations and leaves Sherlock at the plant. He strides in confidently, hands in his coat pockets and a cigarette in his mouth.

“God this place is awful,” He mutters to himself.

“This is our home, you ass.”

Sherlock speaks while turning to face the voice, “Who could ever live-oh demons. What fun,” The two men standing a few feet away had shiny black eyes and looked to be homeless.

One shuddered and said “Oh sorry. The hobo I’m possessing is very defensive of his-er-home. All demon now,” He smiles viciously.

“Excellent. Hold on a moment I’m getting a call,” Sherlock pulls out his mobile and speaks softly into the receiver.

“Exorcizamus te omnis immundus spiritus…” The demons start to squirm uncomfortably, “...omnis legio, onis congregatio…” They fall to their knees, “...audi nos!” Black smoke spews from their screaming mouths. Sherlock hears some other screams and knows it wasn’t just these two demons.

“Wha-where am I?” Sherlock hears a woman yell frantically somewhere to his right.

“Get to the road and keep walking. Don’t come back here,” Sherlock responds in the woman’ vicinity. He couldn’t care less about these people. He needs to find Castiel. The dead angel found at the plant was a sign. He must be here.

***

“You really should’ve done some angel poofing in here.”

“Why’s that? Michael and Lucy are still in the cage doing the samba. As far as I know you three are the only ones left now that I’ve killed Ezekiel. Damn traitor.”

“Yes it is just us three. Well I shouldn’t say ‘just us three’. Lucifer and I are the biggest rebels in heaven’s history. And Michael, well, he’s evil. Loyal as hell, but evil.”

“Why does this matter Castiel?”

“I’m just making conversation,” Cas pauses and looks out the windows, “and giving you a warning for when they show up.”

Crowley fixes on Cas’s smirking face, “What you on about?”

“Michael and Lucifer are on their way. And Sherlock too I’m sure, oh the fool,” Crowley begins to laugh in a slightly fearful and shaky way.

“No they aren’t. They’re in the cage with Adam!”

“Wrong!” Cas sings, looking at the windows and their lack of any warding symbols at all. Crowley takes three long steps towards Castiel and punches him in the cheek,

“STOP LYING TO ME! I know they’re still there! Rotting away!” Crowley’s eyes glow red with his frantic rage.

“Oh fine. You called my bluff. They’re still downstairs,” Crowley drops his head as he exhales. He turns away from Cas laughing.

“Oh wow. You got me! You really punked me. Oh goodness,” Cas starts laughing too, and soon Crowley has to sit down from the intense spasms the laughter brings his body.

“However,” Cas begins, still smiling,”I did get Adam out,” Crowley looks up and stops smiling when he feels a knife pressing against his throat.

“Makes you sort of wish you’d saved me earlier huh?” Adam’s eyes flick to black.


	5. We Can Fix This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost over!

Sherlock runs from room to room, searching for Cas. There’s one last corridor to check. In the first room off of the corridor, there is a note.

“Hello Sherly. I’m Crowley. Heard of me? Well I’ve got our sweet little Castiel here with me. Meet us at 133 Blyth Road in London.”

“GOD! GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD!” Sherlock yells in the empty building, punching the walls and kicking anything he can find. The demons were a set up. Made to look like the place where Castiel was being held. Oh of course. Sherlock dials Lestrade.

“I know where he is. I’m on my way. Do me a favor. If you get any calls about 133 Blyth Road, don’t come.” Sherlock hangs up and hails a cab.

“133 Blyth Road. If the speedometer dips below 100 KPH you aren’t getting paid.”

***

It was Adam’s turn to torture. After centuries of being in hell, he finally gets the chance.

“Oh this is beautiful! I don’t know what it is but let’s try it!” Adam brings the metal crown over to Castiel. He places it on Crowley’s head and asks, “Why do you want Sherlock?”

“You think it’ll be that easy?”

Cas and Adam each select a screw on the crown and begin twisting. Crowley screams.

“Easy for you, no. But for me? This is what I got my grace back for. This moment right here. The exact second where I can pinpoint your wish to die,” And they continue screwing.

***

Blood streaming down Crowley’s face and all of the screws twisted completely, his facade crumbles.

“Can you imagine it?! Imagine Sherlock as a demon! No one could say no! He is a _genius_. He didn’t like what the world had to offer and he invented his own job. Just for shits and giggles! Just think of what that kind of power could be applied to,” Crowley’s expression shifts to one of sadness, “And I’m tired. I don’t want to be king anymore. I just want to be loved. I DESERVE to be LOVED!” His voice increases in volume until he is yelling, “I want to groom him to be the next king. And I want to die,” Crowley speaks softly. He has given up.

“You want Sherlock to be the King of Hell? Well ,it is sexier than ‘high functioning sociopath’. But,” Cas says smiling an evil grin, “I’m afraid that I’m gonna have to decline on his behalf. Goodbye Crowley,” Castiel’s smile is wiped from his face as he rests his hand on Crowley’s head. Light begins to shine from his hand into Crowley’s body. It bathes them all in a white shimmering glow. With his eyes shining in the brightest blue mankind has ever seen, Castiel raises his voice. The windows shatter and Adam covers his ears.

“Crowley, crossroads demon and King of Hell, is dead.”

***

The cabby swerves dangerously between cars, making sure that he never goes below Sherlock’s desired speed in the cramped city streets of London. Upon arrival, Sherlock throws some bills at the driver and looks at the building. It’s a big, spacious warehouse that seems empty. He decides to just walk in the front door. As if it matters. Crowley is expecting him and he mustn’t keep such an important man waiting. He pictures Castiel, beaten and bloody on the floor. Sherlock charges in, not giving a damn about the demons that are surely hiding about.

By some instinct, Sherlock knows exactly where to go. He walks briskly to the stairs and descends into the darkness. As he speedwalks down the pitch black hallway, Sherlock more senses than sees movement. Someone is walking towards him. He starts the exorcism, rushing through it. Sherlock can’t be bothered with some demon. He needs to find Castiel. Once he finishes, he doesn’t hear the telltale scream and whoosh of a demon smoking out.

“What?” Sherlock says softly to himself.

“Sherly you forgot a word. That’s what you get for not practicing like Cas suggested.”

“Who are you? Where’s Castiel?!” Sherlock practically screams the end.

“Oh calm down. I’m a good guy. Come, I’ll take you to Castiel. He’s at the far end. I’m Adam by the way.”

They walk in the labyrinth of halls. Though Sherlock memorized the blueprints on the cab ride over, he makes a wrong turn in his haste and must backtrack. Adam follows at a leisurely pace making small talk.

“...and I was saved. I just climbed on out of the ground. My time in Hell sure was terrible. I’m a demon now. I suppose you can’t see the eyes without the lights. Damn Crowley and his theatrics. How hard would it have been to flip a light switch on his way in?” Adam feels the walls and flicks the switch.

Adam’s words register with Sherlock just as the lights come on. He turns and looks at Adam, recognition in his expression.

“Adam Milligan? Michael’s vessel? Dear God how are you alive?” It’s at this moment that Cas’s voice comes from a room.

“Sherlock? I’m here” Sherlock bursts into the room. His eyes first find the figure on the ground. _Cas? God no._

“This is Crowley,” Sherlock looks to the other side of the room where Cas is standing, perfectly alive, but he’s off. His eyes are glowing blue. He breathes in and thunder shakes the room even though it’s not raining. There’s a shadow on the wall behind him. _Wings?_

“No. No Cas you aren’t. You’re an angel again? How?” Sherlock’s voice sounds curious with a twinge of betrayal.

“Yes Sherlock I am. I have been for some time now.”

“Oh, of course. How didn’t I see it?” Sherlock sounds like his normal self again, if a little bitter, “Three months ago you disappeared. That’s when it happened. I’m guessing you found Metatron. So you got your grace back and decided not to tell me, probably out of love. I always said it was a disadvantage,” Sherlock is striding about the room as if he’s solving a normal case.

“Am I nothing more than another mystery you’ve solved? I’m sorry Sherlock. Now that word has gotten out that I am again an angel, others will soon come; demons, monsters, all gunning for my blood.You must leave.”

“Oh yes I’m going to leave you with a demon! No offense Adam,” He scoffs at the notion.

“None taken, bro. Hell really chills you out, after the first century or so. It’s cool,” Adam comes in and sits in Crowley’s vacated chair. Castiel does not hear.

“Yes you must go. I’ll make sure you’re always safe. I have no choice but to go,”

“Cas no. This doesn’t have to happen. We can fix this,” Sherlock’s voice is deep and intense. If Castiel weren’t still glowing with celestial light he might have been afraid.

Cas goes forward, a soft look in his eyes despite the burning glow. He raises his index finger to Sherlock’s forehead.

“Do it. I dare you,” He looks cocky now. _He wouldn’t_.

Castiel does not understand. _Perhaps he doesn’t love me anymore. Maybe he wants this_. His finger meets Sherlock’s forehead.

 


	6. Life Was Easier as an Atheist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this. I appreciate you all so much

“Alright ‘m leaving!” Sherlock slurs at the bar manager, “You’ve just lost a regular!” The manager stares at Sherlock with sadness.

“Holmes, I appreciate what you did for me. You found the man who killed my family, but you nearly killed yourself in there. The bloke had it coming, but I can’t allow that in my bar,” He gives Sherlock a sorry look before he turns and walks back in the building.

Sherlock begins the walk home. It’s a bit of a hike, but what else is he going to do? He bought a car, then crashed it, then bought another, then had his license revoked. Damn that constant flow of cash into his bank account from a Chuck Shurley.

“Screw the angels! Screw God! I wish it all never existed!” Sherlock shouts into the empty night.

“Life was easier as an atheist,” He walks over the Millenium Bridge from the northern to the southern side, kicking a stone the whole way. Sherlock trails his fingers along the taut suspension cables. He stops, his eyes unseeing.

“Life was easier as an atheist. So I’ll just go back to being one. But how?” He searches his mind shack, no longer the palace it used to be.

Sherlock turns to look over the water, desperate for inspiration. As he turns away, he glimpses a bright spot in the dark, too low to the water to be a star, too high to be a reflection.

“Cas,” he whispers, his breath coming out as fog in the cold London air. He shakily climbs up the cables, “Cas! I’m here! Take me with you!” Heedless of the warnings ringing from the people below him, he continues climbing. He reaches a beam parallel to the water below. Sherlock runs and leaps, arms outstretched to the empty night, and the whisper of his last _I’m here_ on his lips.


End file.
